Chapter Text
In these early hours of the morning, a single candle was the only light in the dark room of the Raven. Said woman sat before her typewriter, frozen in her seat. With this lighting she looked like a painting by Caravaggio, the intense turmoil inside her fueling that image. Lately, she hadn't been able to continue writing her story, her mind only filled by the wolf. It was odd. Nothing had ever held a fixation in her head, yet the wolf took up her mind for a month and counting. The journal entries had kept her mind occupied, yet it still did not fill the gap that the wolf left. She huffed before pushing herself from the desk and standing up to pace a bit. Stopping her in her tracks, taps on the window filled the room. The outlaw stalked over to the window before pushing it open slightly. Thing sat there waiting for her, a note tied to his foot. Wednesday nodded to the bird in acknowledgement before taking the note and unraveling it.
In the note was a description of a bounty target. She read through it a few times. It was a man that had been charged with harassment of a few women. Something clicked in her head. Maybe she needed to go on a bounty hunting mission to clear the thoughts of the wolf. Although it was still the early hours of the day, Wednesday got dressed for the mission. Her all black outfit accompanied by her trusty blades and revolvers. She headed out for the mission before any of her family members awoke, lest they try to convince her otherwise. She went to Nero’s stall, preparing the horse for the mission ahead. Once he was prepped, the horse and wagon set off to find the man.
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As the day approached night, Wednesday continued her search for the man. He was described as ‘slippery’ and quick. Usually that sort of thing wouldn't have any impact on the outlaw, yet he was the exception it seemed. That, or Wednesday was off her game, something she wouldn’t admit. Wednesday decided to take a pause in her search as her stomach began to growl. She realized that she hadn’t eaten since she left her home early that morning. Noticing some deer in the clearing, she pulled Nero off to the side, pulling her rifle off with it. Venison sounded pretty alright, and she could make much use of the animal. Stalking towards the herd, the outlaw spotted a large buck that would make wonderful food. She raised her rifle and waited for the perfect moment. She fired and watched as the buck went down and the others in the herd swarmed off. She went over to the buck before pulling it back to Nero, where she would then build a campfire to cook the meat. She gathered the logs before starting the fire up. The fire didn’t want to rise quickly, so the outlaw busied her hands and mind with skinning the deer and dissecting it. This method had always been quite soothing to her. It was simple, methodical work that she could get lost in. The inner workings of the animal were fascinating. She set the meat up to roast on the fire.
She sat and stared into the fire for a long time. She had no idea that her head could swarm with so many thoughts. It was completely overwhelming. Pictures of the wolf wouldn’t leave her. It was intoxicating, in a sense. She wondered if this is what the curse was. Her father described it as an all encompassing feeling, among many other descriptors. She went through the checklist in her head. Her current feelings lined up with her fathers description almost perfectly, but there was no chance that the curse could have gotten her. She hadn’t felt emotions until now, how on earth did the wolf awaken this in her.
Rustling in the nearby wood took Wednesday out of her spiral. Picking up her rifle again, she snuck over to the noise. It sounded like fighting, one of which the outlaw would be happy to end. A man's voice was heard, cussing and threatening the person he was in the altercation with. IT was very dark, the only light in the area being the fire her food roasted on and a small lantern in the wood. As she neared the man, she noticed it was the one she was hunting for. She thought to herself how funny it was that her prey walked straight into the jaws of the hunter. Muffled protests sounded from the person being attacked. It sounded feminine, yet it was hard to discern through the gag she assumed the victim had. She watched the man go to grab at the woman again. She raised the stock of her rifle up and struck the back of the man’s head, hoping to disorient him at the least. He fell to the ground, stunned. She hated men like this, ones who used their assumed power over women to get their way. It was disgusting. She took the rope from her belt and hogtied the man. Once he became aware again, he began to protest and wriggle in his bonds. She took the bandana from her pouch and shoved it into his mouth before scowling, “Silence.” She threw him to the side before looking at the woman. The lantern, having been tossed away when she struck the man, had since gone out, leaving the area in darkness. She reached for the woman, who was now crying out of what she assumed was fear. The outlaw took the gag out of the woman’s mouth, but she didn’t speak, still frozen and crying. Wednesday sighed and pulled her woman onto her back to carry her back to her carriage. She grabbed the remainder of the rope from the man and drug him along the ground to the carriage. The outlaw could’ve simply picked him up, but he didn’t deserve that luxury.
As she rounded back to the fire, she gently set down the woman, though not looking at her. She went to tie the bounty to her carriage before checking on her, just to insure he wouldn’t try to escape. The man made lots of protest through his gag, prompting Wednesday to roll her eyes and take out her revolver. The look in the man’s eyes was priceless. The fear in them was mesmerizing to Wednesday. She raised the revolver and proceeded to pistol-whip the man, effectively knocking him out. Reholstering the revolver, she turned back to the woman at the fire before freezing.
“Enid?”
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for your patience, enjoy a little art i've finished
